


pick apart the pieces of your heart

by blackkat



Series: Silly SakuOro AUs [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Alternate Universe - Avatar (TV) Fusion, Fight-Flirting, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 21:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12219369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Sakumo struggles for several moments before he goes still with a sound of exasperation. “I thought Air Nomads were supposed to bepacifists,” he complains.Orochimaru snorts, shifting until he’s pinning Sakumo with his whole body weight. “I'm ascientist, not a monk,” he retorts. “I have no need for enlightenment, only knowledge.”





	pick apart the pieces of your heart

**Author's Note:**

> For an Avatar: the Last Airbender AU prompt on my Tumblr.

This is getting to be troublesome.

Orochimaru slides a little deeper into the bushes, one eye on the distant red armor, and tries to make himself as soundless as possible, just in case there are scouts he managed to miss. Behind him, Tsunade and Jiraiya are both several times louder, and it makes him grit his teeth in frustration, but—well. Jiraiya’s a Fire Nation deserter, and Tsunade is Water Tribe. Neither of them would have had nearly as much experience slipping through forests as Orochimaru, since the Air Nomads tend to favor dense jungles.

“You know, we could distract them _really_ easily,” Jiraiya mutters, just quietly enough that Orochimaru isn’t tempted to kick him for it. “Stick the bastard under a box, maybe, or dangle him from a line—hey, they fish where you're from, right? How does that even _work_ , if everything’s frozen all the time—”

“Shut _up_ ,” Tsunade growls, and Orochimaru wonders idly what the chances are of her triggering the Avatar State through irritation alone. Decent, probably, given that they're dealing with Jiraiya. “ _Yes_ , we fish, that’s how we _survive_. Now close your mouth and _keep_ _moving_.”

Jiraiya harrumphs. “I was just _asking_. But my point stands—if we throw the bastard at the prince, we can totally escape while those two do their creepy fight-flirt thing—”

“I,” Orochimaru says waspishly, “am _right here_. And if you would stop implying that there's something between myself and that _buzzard wasp_ I would be less inclined to hamstring you.”

“Buzzard wasp?” a voice says from right behind them, vaguely offended. “This coming from a pint-sized unagi? I think I object.”

Orochimaru whirls around, and it’s instinct to put himself in front of Tsunade, even though she’s quite capable of protecting herself. “Prince Sakumo,” he says coldly, bringing his hands up and shifting his feet so he’s balanced. “I didn’t hear you lurking.”

Sakumo smiles amiably, even though sharp eyes watch with a hunter’s intensity as Jiraiya grabs Tsunade's arm and hauls her into the undergrowth. Hopefully they can make it to her buffalo deer without running into any more Fire Nation soldiers, but Orochimaru isn’t worried. Tsunade's already mastered water and earth, and she’s _devastating_ with them. The biggest threat is right in front of him, as well, and Orochimaru isn’t about to let Sakumo past.

“I'm not surprised,” the prince says, and only when every last trace of Tsunade and Jiraiya has vanished does he turn his attention back to Orochimaru. “That’s what happens when you're too busy complaining to pay attention to your surroundings.”

Orochimaru rolls his eyes. “You know how Jiraiya is,” he retorts. “If there's anyone alive who can withstand him and not complain, I would like to meet them.”

Sakumo's expression tightens faintly at the reminder, but Orochimaru hardly _cares_ when there's a sore point to be exploited. Jiraiya’s past as a Fire Nation noble is good for very little beyond aggravating Sakumo and hopefully, at some point, managing to teach Tsunade firebending.

With a smirk, Orochimaru shifts forward, drops low, and sweeps into a spinning kick that carries a burst of wind with it. Instantly, Sakumo twists around it, steps solid and unwavering, and his hands dart in the way Orochimaru’s become so familiar with. A circular curve of his arms, crossing his chest as sparks start to crackle through the air, and it’s just barely slower than his firebending but that’s _enough_.

Orochimaru tracks the pattern of it, feels the change as the yin and yang energies crash back together, and he’s not a firebender, can't redirect it without killing himself. But even if he’s about as far from being a traditional airbender as possible, evasion is still one of Orochimaru’s greatest skills. He turns, tracing a circle with his steps and feeling the current of the air around him as it gathers and builds. One low swipe with a foot, aiming to knock Sakumo off balance, but Sakumo evades with a sharp turn, energy crackling as he brings his hands up with a spark—

Orochimaru leaps up and over the bolt of lightning, feeling its power raise every hair on his arms, and pulls the air around him in a whirling burst that explodes out as he lands. In the moment after his attack Sakumo is vulnerable, and Orochimaru dodges in close, slides under a sharp thrust of his fist, and twists. One step between Sakumo's feet, another turn, a twist, and the man is too close to evade it. He stumbles, and Orochimaru whirls, comes around with his hand leading, and blows Sakumo right off his feet with a powerful burst of wind.

The prince goes down, and Orochimaru isn’t foolish enough to leave it at that. He lunges after, grabs Sakumo's wrists as he tries to catch himself, and bears him down to the ground, landing on top of him.

Sakumo struggles for several moments before he goes still with a sound of exasperation. “I thought Air Nomads were supposed to be _pacifists_ ,” he complains.

Orochimaru snorts, shifting until he’s pinning Sakumo with his whole body weight. The prince has proved all too thoroughly that he’s just as slippery as Orochimaru, and Orochimaru needs to give Jiraiya and Tsunade as much time as possible to get back to Tonton. “I'm a _scientist_ , not a monk,” he retorts. “I have no need for enlightenment, only knowledge.”

Sakumo eyes the long black hair falling over his shoulder and hums lightly. “For the better, probably,” he says. “It would be a crime to make you shave your hair off.”

“I always rather thought so,” Orochimaru agrees, amused. He feels Sakumo take a breath, and he’s been fighting firebenders more than long enough to recognize the prelude to a bending technique. “I wouldn’t even consider it, if I were you. Blocking chi points is endlessly tedious, but if you force me to I’ll gladly resort to it.”

“You always seem to end up with me at your mercy,” Sakumo says, and he hasn’t relaxed at all, which is more than enough to make Orochimaru wary. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked ending up in situations like this.”

“It’s hardly my fault you always seem to end up tripping over your own feet when we fight,” Orochimaru drawls, even as his eyes narrow, trying to calculate Sakumo's next move. “Not a bad showing for a _peasant_ , is it, your highness?”

“Still holding a grudge for that?” Sakumo asks mildly. “You're traveling with the fourth in line for the Fire Nation throne and the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. I’d have thought you’d be used to it by now.”

Jiraiya and Tsunade, at least, have the good taste not to bring up Orochimaru’s heritage, and to hear those words from a Fire Nation soldier, here and now, makes Orochimaru grit his teeth. He considers, for a moment, snarling the truth at Sakumo, telling him that his small band of Air Nomads were murdered by Fire Nation troops without hesitation or mercy, but really, what would be the point. A pygmy panther can't change its spots, after all.

Rage makes him sloppy, though. His grip shifts, just a hair too tight in the wrong place, and with a sudden surge of muscle and fire, Sakumo heaves himself up, twisting into a hard, fast kick wreathed in flames that makes Orochimaru hurl himself back, flipping over the wave of heat and landing just in time to sway out of the path of a fist. He grabs Sakumo's arms, twisting around the ballast of his body, and kicks him in the back of the knee as he slams a ball of tightly spinning wind into his back. Sakumo skids forward but doesn’t fall, twists to get his balance back and turns sharply to face Orochimaru again.

He doesn’t approach, though, just stands, there, and Orochimaru eyes him narrowly from across the small clearing, waiting for the next attack.

It doesn’t come. Sakumo looks at him for another moment, and then says, “You're loyal to the Avatar. It’s admirable. But it’s cost you so much already.”

Orochimaru hisses, and the air around him trembles. “You know _nothing_ about sacrifice,” he spits.

Sakumo smiles, small and nearly sad. “I do,” he counters, and reaches into one of the pouches hanging from his belt. He raises his hand, and blue stone catches the light between his fingers.

Orochimaru’s breath tangles in his throat, and one of his hands flashes up to his ears, bare since his last fight. “My mother’s earrings,” he hisses, and the fury rises like a cresting wave, nowhere close to breaking. “Where did you find those? Give them _back_!”

Sakumo's expression is regretful, but also firm. “You lost them by the river,” he says. “I've never seen you without them before. They're meaningful, aren’t they?” He touches the short sword across his back, and wryness slides into his features. “Sentiment is an inescapable thing, isn’t it? I’ll gladly return them to you, though. All you need to do is bring the Avatar to me.”

Every muscle in Orochimaru’s body pulls tight, and he forces himself to stillness, staring at the magatama earrings. One burst of fire with ruin them; he can't risk a lunge, not when they're the sole thing he has left of his parents, the gift his father offered his mother on their wedding day.

(He’s asked, before, about reincarnation and the passage of souls, but Tsunade doesn’t know, can't touch the spirit world well enough to understand it yet and might never manage it. Orochimaru contents himself with that, in the face of more pressing matters, but…he’s never fully managed to forget.)

“There are things that matter more than sentiment,” he gets out, though it burns like acid in his throat. “The fate of the world is one of those.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Sakumo says lightly, but Orochimaru can see the faint flinch in grey eyes. “The Fire Nation is a pillar in this world, steadier than any of the other lands. We’re spreading peace.”

Orochimaru sneers. “With _war_ ,” he bites out. “With death and terror and destruction. But Tsunade will restore the balance. And I refuse to betray her.”

Sakumo takes a breath, mouth twisting, and closes his fingers around Orochimaru’s earrings again. “So be it,” he says, and drops them back into his pouch. He turns, tracing a circle as lightning sparks, and—

A boulder slams him in the gut, hurling him back into a tree, and the heavy, rapid footfalls of a galloping buffalo deer shake the trees. Tonton bursts into view, Tsunade and Jiraiya clinging to his back, and Tsunade shouts, “Orochimaru, come on!”

Doubtless there are kimodo rhinoceroses right behind them, given Tsunade's luck. Orochimaru takes three quick steps, gathering moment as he twists the air around him, and then leaps. A swirl of wind carries him up and over, and he lands lightly right behind Jiraiya on the spirit animal’s back. A sharp turn makes him grab Jiraiya’s broad shoulders hard, and Tonton plunges through the forest faster than any other animal could manage, long strides eating up the ground.

“Are you all right?” Tsunade calls back over the rush of wind and the thud of hooves. “That bastard didn’t get you, did he?”

“Of course not,” Orochimaru says derisively, and quickly snuffs out a trace of smoke where his sleeve is smoldering before she can notice. He can't help glancing back, though, even if the trees have already hidden Sakumo from view, and he has to force himself to swallow past the lump in his throat.

Next time, he promises himself. Next time he’ll get his mother’s earrings back, no matter what lengths he has to go to in order to bring Sakumo to his knees.


End file.
